


Christmas Crackers

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Christmas crackers are not what were expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Crackers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [methylviolet10b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/gifts).



“Ow!” John Watson exclaimed.

“What?” Greg looked baffled.

“It felt like I had a shock off the cracker.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s only paper and card.  I didn’t feel anything.  Here, Mrs Hudson let’s pull this one and show him how to do it properly.”

“Bloody hell!  Sorry, Mrs Hudson.  That hurt!”

“Here.  Let me see.”

John took Greg’s hand and inspected his finger tips.

“That’s going to blister if you’re not careful.  Go and run your fingers under the cold tap.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Dr Watson is right,” Mrs Hudson added, in the tone of voice Greg could remember his elderly maiden aunts using (and you argued with them at your peril).

Mrs Hudson listened to make sure she could hear the sound of running water and turned back to look at the table.

“I’m sure that cracker is not meant to be smouldering,” she said.  And then added, “Oh!” as it caught fire.

Quickly she poured the contents of a glass of water over it to extinguish the flames.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was eyeing the last cracker cautiously.  He picked up a fork and rolled the cracker over, but couldn’t see anything untoward.  Carefully he inserted a knife into the paper join and with the assistance of a spoon levered the cracker apart.

Greg returned from the kitchen, sucking his fingers to watch the final part of the operation.

“What have you found?” he asked.

Sherlock removed the piece of folded paper and, once more using the fork, shook it out.

“A completely innocuous paper hat,” he said.

“Together with a rubbish joke and a tacky toy, I suppose,” John added, although he didn’t make any attempt to reach either of them.

Sherlock used the spoon to flatten the joke and then held it in place with the spoon and knife whilst he read it.

_Octavia’s rearranged talpidae_

“Oh, infantile!”

“I don’t understand it.”

“Talpidae, John; moles.”

“Right.”

“Octavia, meaning eighth; in this case, the eighth letter.”

“H”

“Correct, Greg. you at least made it through primary school.”

“And re-arranged; it’s an anagram.”

“Well done, Mrs Hudson.  And in which case this,” Sherlock leant over to pick up the small, lurid pink object still inside the cracker “is a mini USB stick.  Might as well see what it says.”

He connected the stick into his laptop and a DVD started to run.

_Now that I finally have your attention, brother dearest, I would like to wish you A Very Merry Christmas._

_And before any of you start to complain that Mrs Hudson might have been hurt by one of the crackers I should point out that her method of holding them is such that no harm would come to her, unlike some of the more ‘macho’ amongst you._

_And so ..._

With that Mycroft placed a party hat on his head and blew a plastic trumpet.

Sherlock stopped the DVD.

“You were right, John, the toy was extremely tacky.”

 


End file.
